


Jana Hawke x Merrill Drabble Collection

by DalishFirefly (Regina_Lupus)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood and Injury, Crisis of Faith, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-16 01:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Lupus/pseuds/DalishFirefly
Summary: *All Tags Are Not Applicable to All Shorts, See Chapter Notes/Summaries for DetailsThis is an ongoing collection of flash fiction shorts for my canon Hawke and Merrill. They’ll range from the G to T area, but the work will remain T rated as a whole. While this is marked as complete, I won’t shy away from updating when I write more for these two. :)





	1. Coming Home Late

**Author's Note:**

> Point of View - First  
> Perspective - Merrill  
> Chapter Rating - T
> 
> “Mah’vir, ma vhenan” - “Tomorrow, my heart.”

She came to me from her desk, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me close. I wrapped my own arms around her, and allowed her to draw me into a cycle of sweet kisses. When her hands began to wander and her tongue gently traced my lips, I pulled away to look her in the eye.

“No,” I said, gently, not unkindly. “Not tonight.”

She pouted in the exaggerated way she always does when feeling particularly playful. I had to resist the urge to lean in and take her lower lip between my teeth.

“Why not?” She purred, her hands moving low and gently grabbing my rear, pulling my hips tight to hers. I couldn’t help the affectionate laugh that escaped me.

“Because, my Champion,” I purred back, watching her eyes spark and smolder despite their icy color. “It’s already late, and you need to to be up early tomorrow. Remember?”

She seemed confused for a moment, then the realization clicked. Hawke groaned as her hands came back up and her head dropped to my shoulder.

I kissed the rounded shell of her ear. A little grin spread over my lips and I whispered sweetly against it, “Mah’vir, ma vhenan.”

She lifted her head, smiled and stole a quick kiss before we headed upstairs. It didn’t take long for her to be rid of her armor, and in no time after she was deeply asleep in my arms.


	2. Dance With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point of View - First  
> Perspective - Merrill  
> Chapter Rating - G

“Dance with me?” Hawke’s voice caught my attention, and I looked up at my lover. She was standing by the bed, hand outstretched in an offer that mimicked her words.

“W-what?” I couldn’t help but ask. My voice was rough from my tears. Her cheeks were suddenly tinted pink.

“Dance with me, and forget the rest of the world exists.” There was a deep pain in her voice, and I knew she was hurting for me just as I had for her when her own mother died.

I didn’t hesitate to take her hand, as I met her eyes.

I didn’t know the dance, and from the somewhat awkward fumbling at the start I guessed that she didn’t either. There was no music as she held me to her and twirled us around our room, but it scarcely mattered. She lead me in this dance she barely knew, and soon we simply began to move as our bodies instructed without a care for the proper steps.

Soon, we were smiling widely as we moved to and fro across our room. I laughed happily as she lifted me clean off my feet and spun us in a quick circle. We both ended up dissolving into giddy laughter when this move left her unbalanced and toppled backward onto the bed.

I landed on her chest, hugging her tightly as she did to me. Our lips met in the gentlest of kisses before our eyes met. I could see within them a deep desire for... this, us and everything we were together. For once, I saw a future I never thought I could have.

My heart was still heavy, and I knew the pain of losing the only mother I ever truly knew would stay with me for as long as I lived, but with Hawke I could endure anything.


	3. Blood & Bone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point of View - Third  
> Perspective - Merrill  
> Chapter Rating - T
> 
> *Mild to Moderate Depiction of Blood & Violence
> 
> *Jana is not good around blood (especially her own). For that reason, and because I believe Varric is an unreliable narrator that embellished a lot of the story he told Cassandra, this is slightly Canon Divergent. Not much though. Just makes it more personal/realistic.

With a sickening crunch, the room fell deathly silent.

Hawke was kneeling on the floor, panting, trembling. _Bleeding_. One hand rested against a pillar weakly for support, and the other rested on the ground where it had been smacked down a mere moment before. Not too far from her lay the motionless body of the Arishok, caught mid charge by Hawke’s spell and slammed to the floor with enough force to crack the stone underneath. And, as it were, several bones of her foe. For several long moments, the room held its collective breath.

Then, the Qunari fled.

Hawke had managed to pull herself up the pillar, but Merrill knew that she wasn’t alright. Her pupils were blown wide, eyes darting around like an injured animal that had been cornered defenseless. She was still trembling, breathing too fast and bleeding yet unnoticed. Seeing her standing, frightened, and undoubtedly injured in Creators knew what other ways (her shoulder definitely did not look right) spurred Merrill into action.

She reached her first. Hawke jumped when she did, looking at her but taking too long to process her. She pressed her hand immediately to the wound on her stomach, applying pressure and ignoring the half-horrified look Fenris shot her for half a second. Had she not been panicking herself, Merrill would have glared at him for even thinking for a moment that she would do anything.

Aveline, Isabela and Varric were next, coming up only shortly after Fenris. Hawke looked at them all in shock, like she was trying to believe or make sense of what happened. The pain didn’t seem to be quite registering with her. They formed a protective barrier around her. Templars scrambled to find healers while Aveline instructed her guards to usher the citizens out and secure a path to the Hawke Estate. Varric tried to get Hawke’s attention. Fenris and Isabela stood by, unsure of what to do while Merrill continued to apply what pressure to the wound that she could. The bleeding had slowed somewhat, at least. Her breathing wasn’t slowing, or growing any deeper though.

When Merrill looked up from the wound, Hawke was looking at her. She was seeing her this time, the recognition clear in her eyes. She spoke then, voice shaking and so small that Merrill’s heart physically ached.

“I’m bleeding.” It was a statement, not a question. The pain was still not there, at least not in her eyes, but Hawke knew.

Plaintively, futilely, she replied, “Don’t look.”

Hawke nodded a small nod. She didn’t need to see it. She could smell it, feel the slick heat of it against her too cool skin. She knew she was bleeding and that proved too much for her to handle at that moment.

Fenris was quick to catch her, holding her still while Isabela pulled off her sash and tied it several inches above Merrill’s now bloodied hand. Aveline rejoined them, and Merrill reluctantly stepped away so the warrior could gather Hawke’s legs. She and Fenris rushed her out of the keep, toward the estate where healers were waiting.


	4. Just a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full disclaimer, I needed fluff to counter the copious amount of SALT that has built within my system after multiple events both yesterday and today. Therefore, this may not be my best and Merrill might be a bit OOC. I don’t think it’s totally unreasonable what I had her say/do, but just in case it bothers someone. Any mistakes are mine, I didn’t edit this one. I’ll do so once I’ve simmered down a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating - G  
> Point of View - Third  
> Perspective - Hawke
> 
> *Minor Crisis of Faith  
> (Or technically, the beginning of Jana’s crisis of faith if you want specifics.)

Today had been miserable. 

Mages, Templars, bandits, slavers, leftover Qunari battling Tal-Vashoth battling whoever else. And all of it fell to her to clean up! She had only recently been told she could leave her damn room! She knew as Champion this was just a job now, but Andraste’s tits was it exhausting. She wanted a strong drink and to simply stew for the rest of the night. Anger was at least something other than misery and pain and greif. She’d had enough of feeling those, and wanted to the anger to stay.

She wanted to be angry at everything, everyone. Her mother for trying to find another suitor. Her brother for joining the Templars. Her sister for being just out of her reach. Her companions for following her either without question or complaining very loudly about it. Meredith for naming her Champion. Isabela for stealing the damn book for the Maker forsaken Qunari in the first place! The Maker Himself for creating the Blight that drove her out of her happy home in Lothering!

Anger was quick. Anger was passionate. Anger could get her through fights and block out her blasted reaction to the sight of blood. Anger was better than the anguish that haunted her every step! Anger was what she needed, and she needed to hold on to it. Which would only draw in blasted Rage demons, and suddenly she was somehow angrier. Once again, at the blasted Maker. 

Why did she even call herself Andrastain! It was clear she wasn’t wanted in that damned group of idiots who would lock her up in a heartbeat if she weren’t protecting them! What did they have to offer her besides words that were meant to demean her and make her ashamed of the way she was born?

She huffed, closing the front door of her estate with more force than strictly necessary. She heard shuffling as she skulked into the main room of the house, followed shortly by the light padding of feet from upstairs.

Her chest tightened. She knew who it was and she needed to stop her before it was too late. The wall of rage wasn’t yet strong enough to withstand Merrill, and Jana didn’t want this to break right now. She still wanted to be anger. She glared toward the stairs, freezing Merrill in place.

“Don’t do it.” She tried to sound as stern as she could, but even just looking at Merrill was proving almost too much for the flimsy wall she’d hastily constructed.

Merrill cocked her head, the light of the fire playing in her large eyes and glinting off the white of her armor. A tiny, bemused smile started to spread across her face. “Do what, ma vhenan?”

_Game over._

Jana smiled, sadly, the rage crumbling. She dropped her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing, love.”

Merrill padded over to her, wrapping her up in a tight hug that Jana returned without thought. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Jana.” So of course, she had to obey. Her shoulders slumped. “You’re allowed to feel hurt. You’re allowed to need help. I love you, and you aren’t alone.” 

She smiled, genuinely this time, and pulled the elf closer for a proper kiss. She tried to pour everything she was into it, and decided that Merrill was right. She was angry, but that didn’t have to be her. She could talk to Merrill, and things would get better.


End file.
